St. Wolfgang: Wandertag

   There were rumors. Rumors about the Germans. People whispered that they were serious, un-fun folk. I quickly dismissed these rumors, but since arriving, I have found that the saying "in every rumor, there is a bit of truth" is true. When it comes to hiking, the Germans and Austrians are very serious... and perhaps not always the most fun. 

    The first thing they did was try to scare me. There were three hikes we could sign up for. Group one, Group Two, and Group Three. I was told that Group Three would be too hard for me because "in Austria, we do it differently." I was also told that I needed "real hiking boots". . . Challenge accepted. I signed up for group three. 

   Everyone seemed shocked to see me in group three. There was only one other American who had signed up for it. But we were determined to prove ourselves. We would pull ourselves up by our bootstraps (because we had real hiking boots) and fight for our right to be true hikers. 

   However, I need to back up and describe the Alps. Apparently, we can see them from the valley that our school is in, but it had been so rainy I had never noticed. They are not as big as the Rockies, or as extreme. They do not rise straight up to the clouds and poke their heads into space, but they are impressive because they completely surround you and go on for miles. They may not be as tall or as steep, but the peaks are still snowy, craggy, and treacherously beautiful. They carve away deep valleys that fill with turquoise glacier water. The locals have taken this fertile land and speckled it with cozy houses, quaint churches, and green meadows where cows doze in the grass. 

   As I explored the mountain slopes, the mossy forests, wooden houses with flowers dripping from window boxes, and stone walls crossing windy highland pastures felt oddly familiar, like something from a distant memory. It was nostalgic because, in a sense, these mountains were already a part of me. They had seeped into my childhood through stories like Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretal, Heidi, and Treasures in the Snow. 

   But back to the story... It didn't start off bad. We took a wide, gently sloping path deeper into the woods. Then, suddenly, that wide, gently sloping path, turned into a rock slide that cut straight up the mountainside and we followed it. Now, this was nothing out of the ordinary for me. I have grown up in a family where hiking is taken seriously. I've done some grueling hikes in my day, so this didn't phase me. But, that doesn't mean I wasn't out of breath, or that my legs weren't burning. I kept expecting us to stop and take a break, but we never did. Generally, when I plan to hike up a mountain, I like to pace myself and give my heart and lungs some time to rest. I asked someone about it and they said, "This is how we do it in Germany and Austria. You get used to it." 

   At first, I wanted to keep up and show that I wasn't a pansy, but there were areas where the trees broke and a viewshed of the lake and town spread beneath us. Yet, we never stopped. The more viewsheds passed me by, the more I realized that this was my first time in the Alps, and I didn't want to spend it trying to prove I knew how to hike and missing out on the fun of hiking. So, I fell behind with a group of Brazilians and we stopped at a bench to enjoy a green meadow with a small cabin in it and a stone wall that traced the topography of the slopes. After that rest, I never got winded again. Funny how that works, isn't it? 

   After that, the hike was really enjoyable. The Brazilians saw snow for the first ime and I convinced them it was good for food. We had a snowball fight and even enjoyed exploring a few of the cabins that rested in the crook of two peaks where trees didn't grow. These cabins were my favorite. They seemed to have jumped straight out of the book, "Heidi". I've seen photos of cabins like these in the Alps, but realizing they really existed was exciting. I wanted to quit school, buy a few goats, and run away to the mountains so bad. I also picked some wild butter cups to press and dry, but I didn't find any Eidelweiss. I don't think we were high enough. 

    When I reached the top of the peak, all of the Germans were ecstatic. "Hey, you made it!" "You're alive" Yes, I'm alive. It wasn't that hard. I just wanted to enjoy it. That's all. The irony of the situation was that most of the Germans and Austrians who passed me claiming, "You get used to it", were huffing and puffing as much as me, so I had to wonder if they only had a reputation to uphold at that point. 

    All in all, I heard our hike went better than the other two groups, who got lost and saw nothing at all. I would hike with Group 3 again in a heartbeat. The Alps were amazing! I'm excited to go back. 

The first meadow. I could have stayed here all day walking
the stone walls and poking around in every nook and cranny to see
what other signs of life I could find. 

the view of one very lucky woodsman. Can you see why I
was so eager to quit school and move here?

An extremely advanced weather system: "If the rock is wet, it rained.
If the rock is dry, it's sunny. If the rock is dark, its cloudy.
If the rock has moved, there was an earthquake.
If the rock is missing, someone stole it." 

Sawyer; the only other American willing to 
brave Group 3 with me. 

Almost to the top!

The cows get fresh spring water while I have to pay money 
for luke-warm carbonated water. 

There was a bunch of stinging nettle growing 
on the top of the peak. So I was silently suffering the whole time
because I had brushed it with my hands. 💀

We ended the day by shopping in St. Wolfgang.
I found a nice spot behind the cathedral to put up my feet.